


The Most Scruffy-Looking Nerherder In The Galaxy

by Lucy31



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Go read Star Wolves, Lydia has a thing for Old Corellian, Missing Scene, Star Wars and Star Wolves AU, Stiles notices, Takes place after A New Bite, Teasing, Yes it's a fanfic of a fan fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy31/pseuds/Lucy31
Summary: Lydia got bored with Modern Corellian and learned Old Corellian and there is no other reason than that.Like there isn't any other reason than curiosity when she listens to Stiles speaking it.Okay, maybe there is...





	The Most Scruffy-Looking Nerherder In The Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elizaham8957](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/gifts).



> I'm so glad to be able to post it because I had so much fun with the wonderful universe [Sabrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957) built! So, once again, thanks Sabrina for helping me with my english and characterization, that was really sweet of you! :) <3  
> If you havn't read her Star Wolves AU yet, go read it because it's awsome, here's the [link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/754311)
> 
> This is basically Lydia being a nerd and Stiles being... Stiles...
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave a comment!

Remembering her childhood was never easy. The fact that Alderaan had vanished into oblivion with all of her family and friends was still crushing her inside, shaping holes in her soul.  Sometimes, during dark and lonely nights, she would cry herself to sleep because even a year after she had seen her planet annihilated, she could still hear the billion screams that had cried out for help at the same time before fading out to an eternal silence.

But sometimes, remembering her childhood brought her hope. Her mother and grandmother had made her who she was and she was forever grateful to them. She was where she had always wanted to be, doing what she had always wanted to do: fighting against evil forces to help those who couldn’t fight for themselves. She fought for freedom, and that was the only thing that mattered. Even in difficult times, she knew she could count on the warm memory of her parents to guide her through every kind of hell she had to endure. Her mother’s soothing voice, her grandmother’s warm gaze and their steady hands on her shoulders. Even if she knew she would never be able to hold something from Alderaan in her hands again, she knew with certainty that her heart would never let those memories go away.

She had spent her entire childhood learning how to be a princess, how to lead and what her title meant. She had learnt how to shape a public identity for herself— shielding her true self with the strongest possible armour was a necessity if she wanted to survive and be a good and fair leader.

At the beginning, she had hated being called a princess. She didn’t want to be a frail little thing who just had to look pretty, to host dinner parties and wait for a handsome prince to show up and propose. She wanted to learn how to convince people — leaders or commanders who looked down on her at first — she was worthy of their respect and trust, and fight those who refused to act as decent people. Ironically, before she had lost Alderaan, she had been dying to leave it, to travel through the galaxy and see every civilization, convincing every planet that living together was the only way to maintain peace. If she had the power to, she would have ended every war with her words. To accomplish that, she had learnt an impressive amount of languages. By the age of 16, she could talk to almost any sentient in the galaxy and was elected as senator of Alderaan. She had found a new meaning to the princess title and her family couldn’t be prouder.

But there was one thing she would never admit to anyone. When she was a teenager, she had sometimes wished she had had a different life: a normal one. She had known she could never have one; however, she had found the only way she could escape from her life was with books. Stories about young boys and girls falling in love over and over again, fighting the world and all odds to finally be reunited— she craved that kind of passion. She didn’t have many friends, and even with the ones she had, she had to hide it. She was a warrior princess, and a smart one at that, and that’s the only thing they were allowed to see.

Well… All of them except one.

Her name was Neena. She wasn’t part of the nobility like Lydia, but they had met once in one of the senate’s hallways. Neena’s dad had had business there and she had come with him. One day, she was quietly waiting for him while reading a book in one of the many waiting area of the building. Lydia loved to wander those hallways and to eavesdrop on important meetings. Who could be mad at an 11-year-old girl with a big smile and wide eyes after all?

She had never seen Neena before, and she appeared to be so lost in her reading, smiling and biting her lips with rosy cheeks that Lydia came closer. Neena only realized she was being observed after a few minutes. She rose her head and smiled widely at Lydia.

An awkward silence passed between them; neither of the girls knew how to start the conversation. Lydia finally asked her the question she was dying to ask.

“What are you reading?”

Neena closed her book, leaving her forefinger inside and showing her the front cover.

“You don’t know it? It’s called  _ Tales of Corellia _ . I think there are five volumes so far, but it’s not over. This one’s called  _ The Most Scruffy-looking Nerfherder in the Galaxy _ . It’s the second volume.”

Lydia stared  at her, skeptical, but Neena was beside herself with excitement. She had started those books two weeks ago and devoured them since then. But she didn’t have any friends to talk about it, nobody to share her obsession over Luke, the noble and handsome knight. She travelled a lot with her father and had never stayed long enough to make friends.

“No, I swear it’s good. Don’t let the title fool you. It takes place on Corellia but a long time ago, when they still spoke Old Corellian. There is this guy, Han, who is a pirate, a thief, or a smuggler, I’m not quite sure... We don’t like him at the beginning. But one day, he meets Luke, who is training to become a knight to win back the love of his fiancée. We don’t know what happens to him yet. I’m kind of obsessed with him…”

Lydia was starting to smile. This girl was fun and the way she seemed to lose herself in the book, her eyes sparking with glee, made Lydia want to read it to discuss  it with her and maybe fangirl a little.

“Anyway. Together, they rescue a beautiful princess and Luke helps Han quit his job, to do something good, you know? Han falls in love with the princess but she doesn’t like him. Well, I’m sure she only pretends. That’s where I am.”

That was how a strong friendship and an even stronger obsession had begun. Lydia begun to read the book the second she got home that day. Neena had to stay on Alderaan for a while, which gave them time to argue and fight over the story. Lydia was madly in love with Han and Neena only had eyes for Luke. But Han— there was something about the constant sarcasm, the smirks, and the brown eyes that had won Lydia over, even at the beginning when she was supposed to hate his character. He was a rebel and a scoundrel… but a nice one.

She quivered with anticipation every time she had time to read it and felt an exhilarating tingle when she read it in class on her lap or hidden behind other books in the library. It was even better to think that she wasn’t supposed to read it, to enjoy it. She was supposed to read classic literature, to fall in love with characters like Luke or with boys like Jahan, the son of a famous diplomat: smart and promised a brilliant future. Han was smart too. But in a forbidden way.

At the age of 13, Lydia and Neena were still in touch and were over the moon because  _ Tales of Corellia _ was hitting its seventh volume. At the end of the sixth, someone had died and the readers still didn’t know who. It turned out to be Han, but he came back to life after a few chapters thanks to some sort of wizard who had managed to take his body away. Lydia had never doubted it and had kept repeating to Neena that nobody was dead until a body was found.

Lydia became more and more fascinated with Corellia, its history, its culture, but mostly its language. She already knew modern Corellian from her lessons, and after a few months, she knew everything there was to know about Corellia. 

That was when she made the decision to learn Old Corellian. Some people still spoke it. They were mostly smugglers, but wouldn’t it be fun to meet one and make him look at her like Han looked at his princess when he realized she understood his language?  Because let’s face it, guys from Alderaan were boring. Guys from Corellia on the other hand… She had met one once. Although “met” was a strong word. She had seen one walking inside the senate once. He must have been a little older than her and had winked at her. Winked at her! That was badass, right? Nobody on Alderaan had winked at her. Ever.

Despite the little voice inside her head that told her she was being an idiotic teenager, she decided to learn Old Corellian. She told this little voice and everyone else that she had gotten bored with modern Corellian because she could never admit the truth. Well, it was indeed true, but it wasn’t the only reason. Neena learned a few words too and soon enough, they would swear and make jokes in Old Corellian.

It was stupid, really. Lydia got to a point where she felt an actual shiver spreading through her chest whenever she learned something new about Old Corellian syntax. It was just so clever and different from what she knew. It gave you other perspectives of the world. It was so intimate— like dissecting and analysing how an entire civilization thought, saw everything, shaped its minds. And to Lydia, nothing was more attractive than a beautiful and complex mind. There was also something about the way you had to roll your tongue for some sounds that was the sexiest thing Lydia had ever heard. And the etymology of some words in Basic deriving from Old Corellian was mind-blowing. The fact that something so beautiful was only spoken nowadays by smugglers and characters like Han was so antithetical it was mesmerizing.

Years had passed since then and those memories warmed her heart every time she felt a pang in her stomach at the mention of her planet. She had lost touch with Neena years ago when they both went to different universities on different planets. Neena was one of the few memories she had that wasn’t tinted with the dark colours of tragedy. Their paths had just diverged one day and that was it. There was no anger, no resentment. Only life.

 

She hadn’t thought about Old Corellian or about Neena in a long time, and that’s why it surprised her so much when it happened. It wasn’t long after they had destroyed the Death Star, winning them a little time to mourn the people who had died, a little time to rest and clear their minds.

It was during this lull that she really started to notice how Corellian Stiles was. He was an excellent pilot and had a keen desire to be independent, she had already seen that. But in the rush of the escape and then the anxiety of the battle above Yavin IV, she hadn’t paid so much attention to the constant sarcasm and conversation with his hairy friend Chewbacca. She never listened because she didn’t want to snoop, but she knew that sometimes, Stiles wasn’t answering him in Basic.

Lydia wasn’t snooping. She just had an inquiring mind. Of course she did. You couldn’t become as smart as she was without it.

That’s why, one day, as she was reading a recent report about the repairing they had to do on their ships, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation Stiles and Chewie were having a few feet away from her.

She was curious as to how Stiles could speak Shyriiwook. Humans could understand it, but it was almost impossible for them to speak.

Her heart stopped for an entire minute when she realized that he wasn’t speaking it. He was speaking Old Corellian. Not just a few words or some sentences he would have learned by heart like she had. He was  _ speaking _ Old Corellian, giving it life again with voice inflections Lydia had only imagined, with rolled  _ Rs _ and a voice deeper and more rasping than usual. She couldn’t understand everything— she had learned it by herself with old reference books. She had memorized some Han lines like  _ maltoa’eha fho uhl kummang, _ when he was leaving a dead body behind him and apologizing with a smirk for the mess. She could understand pieces if she read something in Old Corellian but it was more difficult to understand someone speaking it.

She couldn’t help but stay hypnotized by his voice and the music of the language. It wasn’t a shiver that was spreading through her chest, but a delicious fire that was warming up her entire body, from her stomach to her fingertips. She was almost tingling with excitement and had trouble to stop herself from smiling. After a few minutes, she had to break from her trance because people were starting to stare at her. Her cheeks were burning and she figured with embarrassment that they must have turned red.

She stood up so abruptly that all gazes went on her, even Stiles’s, who waved at her with a smirk.

After that, she couldn’t help but listen to every conversation he had with Chewbacca. Don’t blame her. Inquiring mind, remember? And intellectual curiosity. He was, after all, her only chance to improve her understanding of Old Corellian.

 

A few days later, the discovery of an Imperial spy near their base made her come back to reality. They managed to capture him before he could reveal any information, but he had already sabotaged some of their ships. Unfortunately, those ships were extremely rare and precious Corellian cargos that couldn’t be repaired with just anything.

The only way they could repair them was with original Corellian spare parts. And of course, Stiles knew a guy. But like a lot of Corellians, this guy didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t coming from his native planet.

That’s why Lydia was currently on a dusty street in a far too hot city with Stiles. They had a meeting arranged with  _ the guy, _ who didn’t want to reveal his name. He had to sell them a document that would allow them to buy the missing spare parts.

It was a serious situation. Those ships were important and Lydia was way too aware of that. Soon, a group of rebels would have to infiltrate an imperial faction who was using Corellian cargos. Those ships were their only chance to do so without any danger. Last time they had run a mission like that, they had lost twelve men and women— and she had been the one in charge of the mission. She refused to have to announce other deaths to more fathers or sisters.

Stiles’s grasp on her arm pulled her away from her dark thoughts. He was speaking with the guy through his commlink as he pulled her toward a deserted corner. Despite her concern, Lydia couldn’t help her cheeks reddening when she realized he was speaking Old Corellian again.

That language shouldn’t have been allowed to have the power to turn her mind upside down like this. One second earlier, she was fearing the possible disaster to come and now, she was focused on the rolled R’s, Stiles’s raspy voice and the way he would sometimes place the subject of his sentences after the verbs. She couldn’t remember what grammatical rule made it possible. Old Corellian was the only language she knew where you could do that. It was a way to make sure you were listened to. Nobody could cut you off because with the subject at the end, as you could phrase your sentence in the most cryptic way. You had to be really smart with words to speak like that and Stiles was. He really was. Lydia was hypnotized; she realized that he was a lot smarter than he let on.

She turned around to avoid being betrayed by her face. From what she could understand, the guy had a problem with their meeting point and was suggesting somewhere else. Stiles was suspicious, but eventually agreed and waved at Lydia to follow him.

They walked side by side, Lydia still trying to hide her blush while listening to the conversation.

Stiles seemed more relaxed and glanced from time to time toward Lydia.

She was worried, he could read it in her eyes, but there was something else. Her face was telling another story. It seemed like she was trying to conceal a smile by hollowing her cheeks a little or nibbling at her lips.

He eventually ended the call, and before he had the chance to explain their change of plans, Lydia started talking with  tangible concern in her voice.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Meeting in a hotel room? It could be a trap… Do you trust him? This is serious Stiles; more people could die because of us... What if he’s not alone? How will we defend ourselves? It’s just the two of us, and he probably knows that. Our first meeting point was safe; why did you agree?”

He had never heard her like that. She was speaking too fast, asking too many questions. Lydia usually chose her words and spoke with precision. Something was wrong; she was clearly uncomfortable. Stiles hadn’t known her for that long, but it was easy for him to see when she wasn’t herself.

He came to a halt in front of her, trying to look as confident as he could be.

“Your highness, you can trust me. I swear I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure it was safe. I don’t know the place, but I know how to protect us in a hotel room. I’ve done it before. I know this mission is important; I’ll do whatever I can to make sure we get that document. If I have to, I’ll use my blaster and we’ll steal it. Besides, this guy is  _ not _ the cleverest guy in the galaxy. He even once...” he was about to lose himself in a memory, grinning a little. He looked so open in that moment that Lydia almost let a wide smile stretch across her lips. She knew she couldn’t let herself get carried away into happy nostalgia right now. Not with him anyway.

“Stiles…”

“Yes, yes, sorry, your highness. I’m just saying that he probably changed our meeting point because something scared him. He’s intellectually incapable of coming up with an idea for a trap.  _ Yke sel ne elpensi varma acv. _ ”

Stiles shook his head distractedly, glancing away, not seeing the look of realization that crossed Lydia’s face. She recognized the phrase he’d said: an old saying that literally translated to “he didn’t invent warm water,” but just meant he wasn’t bright enough to come up with something so clever by himself. 

Stiles was grinning again and this time, Lydia couldn’t help her cheeks reddening. She raised an interrogatory eyebrow to divert his attention to something else.

“It’s a saying we have. It just means—”

She cut him off, starting to walk again and trying to be as cold as she could.

“Yeah, I get it. Let’s go then.”

When she didn’t feel him behind her, she stopped and turned around. He was staring at her with something in his eyes that made Lydia realize her mistake.

“Wait a minute… How did you understand that? Do you speak Old Corellian?”

“Not really… I… I learned it when I was a teenager. I understand pieces.”

Stiles wasn’t the type to push someone too far, but the blush on her neck made him brave.

“Is it a usual thing for princesses to learn a smuggler language? Were you getting tired of your polite and rich playmates?”

Lydia hated the teasing tone in his voice— she had fought her entire life against all the clichés that came with the word "princess,” because she was  _ more  _ than that, had spent her whole life trying to prove she was more than that. But she was determined not to let Stiles see how much his words affected her, so  she tried to reply as indifferently as she could.

“No. I just got bored with modern Corellian.”

“While I do believe you on that, it doesn’t explain why you were blushing earlier.”

“I was  _ not _ blushing.” Stiles had come to a halt and Lydia kept walking. “It’s the heat; it’s too hot for me.”

Stiles’s long legs brought him next to her too fast. He knew he should stop teasing her, he was clearly aggravating her, but on the other hand...

“Let me try something…” He grabbed her shoulders too fast for her to react, his eyes boring into hers. “ _ Shrat. _ ”

Lydia’s cheeks blushed so intensely that she didn’t realize what he was doing or have time to control her reaction until it was too late.

“ _ Monho.” _

It was ridiculous; Lydia had to say something. Anything to stop Stiles from saying random words like that with those voice inflections.

“ _ Malseca. _ ”

His voice was so raspy now that she felt her face burn a little more. She hated the fact that she wanted to giggle more than she wanted to get angry at him.

“I knew it! You dig Old Corellian! Don’t worry, a lot of girls do… I’m not quite sure why though…”

The bastard was smirking now, and Lydia had to make him stop.

“Okay flyboy, first of all, I don’t  _ dig _ anything. I’m not a teenager anymore, thank you very much.” She was standing in front of him, pointing a finger at his chest and was trying to keep a serious face when all she wanted to do was smile. “And second of all… Yes, I learned Old Corellian but,” she had to pause, because Stiles was now laughing so hard that he was almost choking. “But, it was only because I got bored with modern Corellian. And stop laughing like that!” She pointed her forefinger at his chest again.

Stiles stopped laughing suddenly and took her hand in his. His stare was so intense and he came so close to her nose that she held her breath without noticing it.

“ _ Ven Ohna Ehin plachi. _ ”

Lydia tried to stop the reddening of her cheeks but couldn’t help but bite her lip, which only resulted in giving an opportunity for Stiles to smirk even more and to whisper into her ear.

“ _ Cifer li ecshe. _ ”

Stiles let her hand go and stepped back. She opened her mouth, inhaling deeply and looking for a witty reply but thought better, closed her mouth and turned around. The sound of Stiles’s steps and laugh followed soon and she couldn’t help but feel naked under his gaze on her back. But if she was being honest with herself, a part of her— a deep buried part of her— was enjoying his teasing. It had been a long time since someone had passed through her walls enough to learn her secrets and hadn’t been afraid by her title and treated her like a normal person, not a princess.

After a few minutes, she realized that Stiles was keeping his distance from her. She didn’t feel him next to her anymore and this absence was discomforting. Her steps slowed down imperceptibly until Stiles reached her again.

His smirk was gone, replaced by an expression she couldn’t read. It was a mix of concern and guilt. Lydia felt her heart skip a beat. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was afraid he had crossed a line.

Lydia turned her head slightly toward him just to make sure she hadn’t somehow broken him. She threw him a tiny smile, hoping he could read in her eyes everything she was still failing to vocalize. Relief overwhelmed her when his soft gaze met hers.

If she smiled after hearing him whisper  _ sorry _ in Old Corellian, it wasn’t his business.

 

Stiles was right. The guy was the definition of stupid. Lydia listened to them speaking mostly in Old Corellian, but this guy was so disturbing that she didn’t recognize the language she liked so much. He didn’t have the rasping voice of Stiles, nor the attitude. It was wrong. He kept undressing her with his constant stare and she was itching to say something but she knew they had to make a deal with him first. Lives depended on it.

Stiles must have felt it because she could see his fist tightening each time the guy looked at her, his jaw constantly clenched. It made something warm up in Lydia’s stomach. She was so used to taking care of herself that having someone by her side who seemed so eager to protect her was shaking her off balance. She couldn’t help but stare at his reaction at each unappropriated glance.

His voice didn’t give anything away, but his body was talking an entirely different language and it was mesmerizing. It looked like he was trying to keep himself from throwing his arm around her shoulder and she couldn’t help her stomach from twisting at the thought.

After a while, Lydia felt Stiles’s hand on her lower back. She had to admit... It was nice and warm. He wasn’t touching her, his hand hovering a reasonable distance from her, but it was close enough that she could feel his presence behind and beside her. Encompassing her.

Lydia was so aware of his body next to her that she swore she felt her own body tense, mirroring Stiles’s reaction at one last unappropriated comment. The guy had asked Stiles how much a girl like her was costing him a day, and Lydia didn’t have to look at his face to know that Stiles was ready to lash out at him and shoot him in the head with his blaster.

She didn’t think twice. She took a step forward and replied in the best Old Corellian accent she could manage. Both men remained speechless but after a while, Lydia resumed the discussion in Basic.

“So, now, if it’s not too much trouble, I would very much like to end this meeting and go back to our base with what you promised us.”

Lydia extended her hand, her face completely closed, her jaw clenched, and waited for the guy to give them the document that would allow them to buy what they needed. His mouth was still agape and so was Stiles’s, but where she could spot a spark, pride and maybe something deeper that Lydia wouldn’t dare to name in Stiles’s stare, the guy was looking at her with empty eyes.

“Okay, look. We don’t have all day and we have more important things to do than stay here and wait for the neurons in your brain to do their job. So, either you give it to us right now, or…” Lydia turned to Stiles with a pointed look toward his blaster, hoping he would take the hint, but he was still frozen with his eyes even wider opened. She would have laughed if the situation was less urgent. She rolled her eyes and circled his waist to grab the blaster herself. The contact seemed to jolt him out of his frozen state and he took the blaster from Lydia’s hand, finishing her sentence.

“… or, we’ll convince you otherwise.”

Still speechless, the guy hurried to give them the document with frantic gestures. With her chin up, Lydia took it, examined it quickly and without even glancing at him, gave it to Stiles, who placed it in his pocket. She turned around, making her way toward the exit and waited for Stiles to follow her, but he wasn’t moving. There was so much anger in his eyes that she was sure he would start a fight with this guy, and they didn’t have time for it.

“Are you coming, Stiles?”

He eventually turned around to look at her, and Lydia was able to pinpoint the exact moment when the anger in his eyes was replaced by this intensity that made her want to both hide and open up to him at the same time. Lydia drowned herself in his stare. There was no trace of the teasing from earlier, only softness, pride and awe. The single idea that he was able to be this Corellian smuggler archetype while remaining soft with her was enticing, and she felt warmth spreading in her stomach. To divert herself from that feeling, she cleared her throat and he finally unfroze.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

He tried to hide the smile on his lips but Lydia saw it and couldn’t help but smile in response. She felt his hand settling on her lower back again, really touching her this time, sending shiver through her entire body. It gave her the strength to turn around one last time with the perfect Old Corellian comment for the guy who was now sitting useless on his bed.

She heard Stiles muffle a laugh. The second they were out, Lydia thought about how proud her teenage self would have been and let her laugh explode. She took Stiles’s hand in hers and began to run away from the hotel, to put as much distance as possible between them and the guy who was stupid enough to shout at them from his window.

Between their uncontainable laughs and Stiles’s clumsiness, it was almost impossible for Lydia to keep her balance. She kept bumping into Stiles, who turned his gaze filled with affection toward her too often and almost walked on a small animal once or twice.

For an outside spectator, they could have looked like two lovestruck young people, having their honeymoon in the only city they could afford. Somewhere too hot, too dusty but full of possibilities. For a second, Stiles saw this picture of carefree joy and happiness. Lydia’s laugh must have been what love sounded like: rare, beautiful, priceless, but also broken and full of nostalgia. Her laugh contained all the voices of her people; it was the last drop of happiness that was left from Alderaan and Stiles swore to himself to protect that at any cost.

They stopped a reasonable distance from the hotel and once again, Lydia lost herself in his gaze. She didn’t know what it was, but there was something in it that soothed her aches, that made her want to be a little selfish for once and fly far, far away from everything with him. Their laughs vanished into the atmosphere, leaving behind the trace of a smile on their lips and the shadows of unavowed fantasies and  _ what ifs _ in their eyes.

It was so intimate that Lydia began to feel uncomfortable. She was fidgeting, her skin beginning to feel too tight for her. Stiles must have felt it too because he eventually broke the silence, starting to walk again.

“So, how many languages do you know exactly?”

Lydia smiled, hoping he would be able to translate it into gratitude.

“Well… I learned a lot of languages when I was a teenager, that’s part of what helped me get elected as a senator when I was 16. I was one of the few who didn’t need any translator droids during the sessions.”

She couldn’t help but smile proudly, waiting for a reaction from Stiles.

“At 16 years old? Is that even allowed?”

He was beaming at her in a way that made her want to brag a little.

“It depends. When you’re as smart as me, it’s a crime to not allow it.”

She felt his stare linger a few more seconds until her eyes automatically met his and he winked at her.

“I can’t disagree with that,” he said, laughing through his nose.

They kept walking at a slower pace, enjoying the cooler breeze of the evening and the beautiful shades of pink, orange and blue colouring the sky.

Stiles couldn’t get enough of hearing Lydia talk about what she had learned and what she could still remember. He encouraged her to go on with tons of questions and loved listening to her talk in other random languages.

At one point, they realized they had lost themselves in the city.

If it was on purpose, well… It was nobody’s business.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious and want to know what Stiles is telling Lydia, here is an online translator: http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php  
> :)


End file.
